The Long Road to Glory
by Devlin Rosenkreuz
Summary: One destiny... achieve it, at all cost.
1. Chapter I: Dusty Roads

The Long Road to Glory  
  
Book I Chapter I: Dusty Roads  
  
The sun blazed high overhead, it was noon; Devlin has been walking through the desert for over a week now searching for the town of Izlude. His body was covered by wounds and bruises of various degrees, his mind was totally devoid of any thought and emotion, and he drifted in and out of consciousness due to exhaustion. He had just attempted to end the existence of the Orcs in which he has failed. He barely escaped with his life; he despised them, all of them, the Orcs. They were the reason he grew up not knowing his parents' love. He was almost successful until he was faced by the Orc Hero. It was just too much for him, a newly inaugurated Swordsman.  
As he walked through the desert in his rags he tried to face the disappointment he felt at failing to avenge his parents' brutal deaths. Mumbling to himself as he walked aimlessly through the desert in hopes of eventually reaching his hometown. He was not really lost, he knew the way, but in his state of mind he could not tell what was going on in the world around him. Nothing was clear, he could hear and see, but he could not understand anything.  
  
"There, that's the one, the swordsman we've been hearing about," whispered a merchant as Devlin passed Morroc headed in the direction of Izlude. "What do you think happened to him?"  
  
"I heard he went crazy as he tried to kill the Orcs," answered an assassin. "I guess some people aren't meant to be swordsmen no matter how much they dream of it."  
  
Word started to spread that the Crazy Swordsman was passing through Morroc. Everyone wanted to see this unfortunate soul because of the rumors that have preceded his arrival. He was just passing by, his feet still remembered the road home, but as he came close to the town's exit he was confronted by a group of swordsmen who were known throughout the area for their merciless treatment of those who were unfortunate enough to cross their path. One of them saw the dusty cloaked figure of Devlin approaching and headed toward him. He blocked Devlin's path and pushed him to the ground.  
  
"You pathetic excuse for a swordsman!" he yelled. "Discard your clothes and sword. You give us a bad name. Orcs too much for you?"  
  
That push was what Devlin needed; it rocked his body into consciousness. He heard and understood every single word the large swordsman uttered. He was not affected in any way by the words, for they meant nothing to him. He simply got up and stepped aside and continued on his way. The large swordsman was shocked; this was the first time anyone had blown him off so casually that he did not know how to react. But he quickly gained his wits and grabbed Devlin by the arm and with his other hand, prepared to draw his sword. "You little punk!" he yelled. At this the rest of the swordsmen in his group already knew that the Fool was as good as dead.  
In one swift motion Devlin drew his sword and blocked the large swordsman's strike over his head. Everyone was surprised by what they saw; no one could have known the swiftness of this stranger who they thought to be seriously ill. Within that instant, his eyes were no longer glazed, they pierced through your very soul. He was back, he was alive again. He looked directly at the large swordsman's eyes and said, "Leave me in peace and there should be no more arguments. I guarantee your safety."  
  
"You what?" the swordsman ask incredulously. "Guarantee my safety? What a joke! Just think about your situation you little punk. I'm more than enough to take care of you, but I still have my party. No, no, it is I who will guarantee your safety if you give us all your items and money and you discard all signs of your swordsmanship."  
  
People started to gather, some where already protesting to their actions. Pleading with them to let go of the poor swordsman, he's crazy, he does not know what he's talking about. Some were telling the others to just watch for fear of what this group of vandals might do to them. Some were already calling for the knights to bring back order to this peaceful trading post.  
The crazy swordsman finally gave his quiet but firm answer, no. People stood there in disbelief, maybe this swordsman really was crazy, he did not know the danger he was getting himself into. "Stand down now and live, or you can die here in the sands of the desert," Devlin finally said. "It does not matter to me either way."  
This did it; the swordsman was now shaking in his rage. He prepared to strike once again, but before he could even raise his sword his head fell in the sands a few feet to his left. It oozed and left a pool of blood underneath it as his knees gave way and his body slumped over before it finally fell. The sands were now red with his blood, glistening in the afternoon sun, and the stench of blood filled the air. Everyone looked in awe as he continued on his way to Izlude. No one could have suspected this lowly swordsman to be the most talented sword-handler of that time, and no one could also have suspected how easy it was for him to kill.  
  
Devlin continued his journey to Izlude leaving the people of Morroc in awe of his abilities. This time however, rumors of his very casual "argument" were just the beginning of his rise to the awareness of the denizens of Midgard. He got to Izlude after about an hour of walking watching as the landscape slowly changed from a torched desert to a lush assortment of greens. He was finally at Izlude's entrance; it was just a matter of time before he was back within its streets where he played as a boy.  
As he walked towards the central square, he noticed an old man looking at him, analyzing him. He looked tired; his eyes carried the weariness age brought with it, and his frail frame only made his clothes look bigger. He was dressed in a loose gray tunic, which was soiled and rather aged, and was standing next to a cart of fruit. Devlin thought of him only as a shopkeeper who was searching for patrons, but when he spoke to him he was rather surprised by it.  
  
"Have you forgotten your destiny, the one you have created for yourself?" he softly whispered.  
  
"Old man, do not talk to me unless you want your patrons to think you are crazy like me," Devlin answered. "I am far too tired to pursue it."  
  
"You haven't given up," he said, "you are far too proud to do so, young Devlin. I am Ahasuerus; it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."  
  
"Have the rumors already gone this far?" he asked, finally interested in the old man.  
  
"No, I have known about you for a long time," Ahasuerus said. "This is merely the first time we have met. Go. You already know where. You shall have your chosen destiny."  
  
"Then I will be seeing you," he finally answered after considering what the old man just said.  
  
As Devlin walked away the old man returned to tending to his cartful of fruits, peddling his wears to the travelers who frequented the square to find the best deals on the street. "You don't know how soon," he whispered as a female acolyte came to him. 


	2. Chapter II: The Horde

Chapter II: The Horde  
  
It was dawn five days after his arrival in Izlude before he walked out of the Byalan Island Dungeon. He spent five days and nights in the dungeon merely to prepare himself for the journey Ahasuerus reminded him of. He did not sleep, nor did he eat in that time to prepare his body and mind for a journey that would lead him to his destiny, his chosen destiny. Every man has but one destiny, he always believed, but it was also up to that man to make a new one for himself if his previous one did not suit him.  
After almost a week underground fighting monsters every single moment of his short stay there, he found himself surprisingly refreshed as he stepped back into the Izlude harbor. It was first light; he needed to find a merchant or shop he could sell his spoils to. He needed the money for his short trip to Prontera, the capital, to enlist as a knight. After that short stay in Byalan, he felt confident that he was now ready to become a knight both in body and mind. All that was left for him to do in Izlude was stock up on some basic rations he needed, then he would be off.  
As he approached the central square he found several people already walking about, but could not find any open shops. He then decided to make due with the local weapons dealer, although it would get him a much lower price than he had hoped. As he left the building of the arms dealer a passing female acolyte caught his eye. He did not know for what reason, but decided it must have been his lack of sleep. He made the short walk to the town's exit where he headed north in Prontera's direction. If all went well, he would get there early and have enough time for a quick nap as he already waited in line. As he was nearing the southern entrance of Prontera he once again came across the female acolyte. Only this time she needed help because she apparently disturbed a Chon-chon hive and was being chased by quite a few.  
He drew his sword, ready to take them on, and motioned for the acolyte to run towards him. Not the best creature to test my new skills on, he thought, but at least he would be saving a life. That was what mattered. He took care of them quickly with a decisive slash meant to slice each of them in half. That was all it took to end her current troubles. She came back to heal him, but he signaled her not to bother. She was smiling at him as he picked up his spoils and handed them to her. She politely refused, "Oh no, I could never accept such a gift after being handed my life."  
  
"You owe me nothing," Devlin simply said. "Take them they are of more value to you than me. Return the favor to someone someday, that is all I ask."  
  
"What is your name spirited swordsman?" she asked her rescuer. "I'm Cleo. Nice to meet you on this very fine morning!"  
  
It was indeed a fine morning; the sun began to rise as he began to walk back on his way. He, too, was happy. He would finally become a knight. "Wait, wait, please wait for me," came the distant voice of Cleo. "Are you headed to Prontera? Oh, I know, you must be going there for your knighthood. Hmm, it's still early, but I think I can get you in as soon as we get there." This was becoming a very pleasant morning for Devlin; he never would have expected such luck. Things were getting brighter and brighter not only in the outside, but also in Devlin's thoughts. The old man was right; he was going to have his destiny.  
  
As they reached the Knights' main recruitment office Cleo told him to wait outside. She came back out with a distinguished looking knight following her. "That's him uncle," she said cheerfully. "He wants to become a knight but I think he has to go somewhere in a hurry. Could you knight him before the offices opens?"  
  
"Of course, of course," Cleo's uncle replied heartily. "Anything for the man who saved my niece!"  
  
They entered the recruitment offices and began to arrange for Devlin's knighthood. It was a rather quick and simple affair since Devlin has already met all the qualifications. They filed away the documents that were just freshly signed and Devlin was free to roam the world as he wished.  
  
"Now that you're a knight, Sir Devlin," Cleo said eagerly, "could you let me join you in your first adventure into the wild, wide world?"  
  
"No," Devlin said simply. "It is far too dangerous for you to come with me. Do not misunderstand, I appreciate your help and I will repay you one day. But for now, I must handle this alone."  
  
Cleo stared hard into Devlin's impassive face, it revealed nothing. She decided to leave, thinking she could always follow him to where he might wander. As she walked away to blend with the early shoppers she began thinking of this very mysterious knight. Unlike most who made their presence known by the hot air that usually surrounded them, this odd one carried a force that made itself felt even in silence. His features were young, probably no older than 16, but the way he acted made him seem like a veteran warrior to anyone who saw him.  
Devlin walked around the main pathway of the city, stopping at every other merchant's stall to look for weapons and armor that tailored to his very specific needs. After about an hour he felt he was properly equipped and supplied to make his solitary trek to the Orc Village.  
As Devlin exited the Western Gate of Prontera, Cleo followed in what she considered a safe distance. If he ever needed an acolyte to heal him she would be close enough to help, yet at the same time far enough not to be sensed. She wondered where this young knight was headed as most of the land further west only sheltered creatures of little or no significance to him, except of course for the Orc Village, but that was preposterous. Going there anytime today would be a self-sentence to an early grave. It was the Orcs' Day of Trial. The day when all Orcs are at their most hostile because of their desire for survival. Anyone who enters the Orcs' territories, on that day, are never expected to return.  
  
Devlin knew he was being followed, he could sense it; it was a part of his instincts that kept him alive. He also knew who was following him, the female acolyte with long blond hair, Cleo. Because of this he often had to walk through the woods to loose her among the trees. After several detours, he was finally sure he had left her far behind. Now nothing would hold him back as he would have his revenge on the murderous and barbaric race that killed his parents.  
He stood just outside the Orc Village's territory, mentally preparing himself for the long battle ahead. He was prepared. He took a step forward and knew there was no turning back. He now stood on Orc territory.  
  
As he walked past the wooden barriers of the Orc Village he saw a huge group dancing as if readying for war. The tribe was here. Their downfall, no, the downfall of their race had just begun with the deaths of two Orc Warriors. He knew he was going to make this the most violent and painful personal war he will ever wage.  
The blade of his sword was lightly coated in Orc blood; the two warriors had quickly fallen in his hands. He chopped off the head of the one lying closer to him and crushed its skull with a stomp of his foot. This was an insult; he then swung his sword towards the large group watching him to sprinkle them in their own blood. That was a challenge.  
For the next few hours he deliberately dealt mortal wounds that would surely cause death to any Orc, but not a swift and painless one but rather a torturous, slow and painful death. The fields were now a deep crimson in color, it changed the appearance of this village so radically it would have passed as hell and no one would doubt it. The few huts found in the village were being individually torched by Devlin as he visited the lying corpses of the Orcs. To those that still lived, he would slash continuously until it no longer roared from the pain. Some had their skulls smashed as they tried to crawl their way to the nearest axe within its reach. The ground forever soiled by the Orcs' blood was now no longer recognizable. Splinters of axe handles, axe blades, helms, and so fort were scattered all over a vast field. The ground oozed with the blood of fallen Orcs each time Devlin took a step. His wrath was now appeased, but he still had to clean up his mess.  
  
As he began the long task of gathering all the corpses he separated valuable spoils that they may not be wasted. He gathered them into a huge pile of dismembered bodies, appendages, and bones. To show he no longer harbored any hatred for them he burned their bodies that their dusts remain together even though their bodies may not.  
As he began to walk away to gather his spoils of war, Cleo entered the village in a rush. She could not believe her eyes, a huge pile of Orcs were burning and the odor it produced was the most repulsive she could ever remember, blood saturated the land, and a dark cloud of smoke shielded the village from the nearly setting sun. Weapons strewn and scattered everywhere and Devlin covered in sweat and blood. She began to weep; the carnage the land witnessed today was only a testament to this young man's abilities.  
  
She never saw or heard it coming. The hurdled axe of the Orc Hero had hit her with such a loud thud that Devlin was sure it had hit her spine. An expression of pure shock appeared on her gentle face as she slowly fell over from the impact of the blow, but this attack on his new world only served to renew his anger. It was an act of aggression that defeated its purpose of revenge; it only sealed the fate of the Orc Hero. He threw his sword at the Orc Hero like a javelin which hit him squarely between the eyes. As its massive body hit the ground Devlin already bolted to where Cleo lay motionless. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked at her face. He took her upon his arms and ran in the direction of Prontera. He needed to get there, to Prontera, he needed her to live. 


	3. Chapter III: The Yellow Rose

Chapter III: The Yellow Rose  
  
The sun was quickly setting and it was steadily getting dark. Very soon darkness would blanket the sky to prevent him from seeing where he was going. Knowing she was still warm was all it took for him to run as he had never run before. Devlin knew she was still alive, but she won't be for much longer unless he was able to get help. He saw nothing but the path ahead of him, stumbling at a time like this would mean the life of his young friend. His nimbleness helped him avoid most of the obstacles blocking his way as he jumped over rocks and creatures alike.  
He felt the wetness in his arm grow moister, she was bleeding very badly. This was not good. He would have to get her to the Sanctuary as soon as possible for treatment. She might just have that chance if he could make it. He happened to see her eyes open just slightly; he was relieved to see she was still hanging on. "Cleo, Cleo," he whispered as he continued for Prontera. "Don't sleep on me. Stay up that way we can go on that adventure you wanted. Please stay awake for me."  
  
"Devlin," was all she managed to say. Devlin looked down at her and told her not to speak. He was almost there. He could see the lights of the city; it was the greatest sight he's seen the whole day. He finally arrived in the Sanctuary and laid her body down on one of the benches as other acolytes scrambled to find a Cleric within the sanctuary who was capable of treating her injury. He entrusted her care to an acolyte named Rosenkreuz as he left for the Knights' recruitment office to inform her uncle of what has happened.  
  
"She was what?" he asked horror-stricken. He heard every word but couldn't believe it. His beautiful niece was struck by the Orc Hero's axe in the back. But judging from the way the young knight looked, he must have been telling the truth. They both rushed back to the Sanctuary to check up on what has happened to her. It appears several of the elders were struggling to keep her alive; apparently, the impact on her body injured a lot of her internal organs and she also lost a lot of blood.  
Cleo's uncle was, by now, kneeling by the altar praying for his niece's life. Devlin also said a little prayer for his friend and left. He went to the yard behind the Sanctuary to sit under the moonlight. He hadn't really thought about the blood he was covered in until now. He reeked of the smell of sweat and blood. He was tired, but he still could not sleep because he wanted to stay awake to support Cleo. He wanted to help out with anything they needed, but for now he just needed to sit down.  
  
What was it about this young acolyte that endeared her to him? Was it her cheerfulness? He really didn't know, but he was glad. He never before cared so much for a person. Maybe she was like his mother, that's probably why he felt endeared to her. He could not think of any other explanation since he never really had female friends, or any friend for that matter.  
  
After some time has passed an acolyte came to him, it was the guy he left responsible for Cleo. Rosenkreuz was approaching him slowly preparing to wake him up, but he got up and asked what happened. "Oh, you were awake," he said quite relieved. "I was afraid you might have died out here without us taking a look at any of your injuries. You were covered in blood; I thought you might have had an injury too."  
  
"Nope," he said while staring at the moon. "What happened? Is she alright? Tell me."  
  
"She is still at the verge of death," he answered quietly. "The elders are doing their best to keep her alive. And everyone in the Sanctuary is praying for her. I think she will make it. If you want to see her I can take you to her, but you'll need to have a bath first. After all, it's useless if she just died because of an infection."  
  
Devlin took a bath, after all, he didn't want to smell like a rotting Orc, he then was given a change of clothes appropriate for the operation room where the elders where trying so desperately to save her life. He saw the pools of blood in the floor and noticed some tubes leading from her back to two small jars on the floor that was slowly filling with her blood. "She was poisoned," Rosenkreuz explained when he saw Devlin looking at one of the jars. "That's where the poisoned blood would go; the rest of it will be returned to her body."  
  
Devlin couldn't bear to see his friend in such a tortured state. Even though he knew and understood the importance of what the elders where doing, to him, it just seemed like controlled torture. But it was necessary, if she was to get better. He left for the Orc Village very early the next day to reclaim his sword and bounty.  
He got there with no incident. It was a total wasteland, now that he could see it clearly because of the bright sunlight. He found the Orc Hero's dead body lying where it had died; he approached it and stepped on its chest as he drew his sword from its head. As he pulled it out shattered skull fragments and blood gushed out and some splashed onto his new uniform, much to his annoyance. Even in death this Orc had victory over him.  
  
Less than a week ago, this very same Orc robbed him of his revenge and made him run for his life. Yesterday, it yet again stole his victory by nearly killing his new friend. Now it showed him just how little it thought of him, even after death, by soiling his new uniform to further mock him. And he would only find out later if this huge corpse won over him yet again by actually succeeding in killing his now helpless friend. Then what was the point of his revenge if he still lost in the end? He thought about what he has done and realized it would have been all for nothing if Cleo died. The Orcs already won. He really despised them, he thought to himself. He would not burn it, the Orc Hero's corpse. It would only be adding insult to injury. He took his bounty and sword and headed back to Prontera.  
  
When he returned to the Sanctuary he solemnly approached the altar to pay his respects to his friend, his first friend. He slowly walked away and as he reached the door was stopped by Rosenkreuz. "I have something to tell you," he said. "It's about Cleo."  
  
"Oh, but before you say anything," he handed him his sword and the sack of bounty he got from slaying the Orcs, "put these in here grave. It's my tribute to our short friendship."  
  
Rosenkreuz responded, "I won't put those in her grave." He paused only for a moment before continuing. "She's alive!" he said trying to stifle a laugh. "Look at you! Go see her; she's been waiting for you."  
  
Devlin knocked on the door and waited for someone to tell him to come in. As he waited Cleo opened the door and was so glad to see him she gave him a big hug. "You came back!" she said.  
  
"Well I guess we're going on that adventure after all," Devlin said reassuringly. I guess she must have been like my mother in some way for me to take to her like this, he thought. "I guess I have to burn him too." 


	4. Chapter IV: The Wolf and Angel

Chapter IV: The Wolf and Angel  
  
A few days have passed before Devlin and Cleo left Prontera. Cleo's uncle, Sir Stefan, was a little hesitant about letting his niece go on any type of adventure for the moment but later reconsidered after he saw how much better she was doing in the company of the young knight he recently recruited. Indeed he was talented; to slay all of the Orcs was no ordinary feat for any newly recruited knight. He was so grateful to this young man for doing everything he could to try to save his niece that he held a small feast for him in his Pronteran home.  
The festivities were meant to celebrate his niece's recovery and this young man's valor. It was a simple affair that was basically a large dinner- party with the Knights of Prontera joining them for the evening. To the old knight's knowledge, the others have already gotten word of this boy's accomplishment. In fact, that very morning some left for the Orc Village to see for themselves what really happened. It went without saying that when they returned there was little doubt in their minds of Devlin's potential. "He would be great one day," one of the elder knights remarked. "Look at what he's been able to accomplish so early in life. Great things will only follow."  
  
Devlin was waiting for Cleo at the entrance of the Sanctuary as he was musing over what the other knights had said last night in the party. It was starting to look like that the old man was right after all, he would have his destiny. What ever happened to him anyway? But that was not important now. He was planning their route as he waited. Cleo was checking through her things. She never strayed further than the Izlude fields while she was training. Now it was different, she would be traveling around the world never knowing where she would end up next or when she'll next be home.  
They left through the Southern Gate of the city. They were headed for Izlude at Devlin's request. He needed to take care of a few things before they left. As they arrived, Devlin told her he needed to visit his parents' graves for only a little while then, they would be off. They both arrived at a little corner in Izlude where some swordsmen helped the young Devlin burry his parents.  
Devlin wanted to pay his respects by visiting them only after he has made something out of his life. As of now he wasn't a knight that everybody heard about in legends, but he was building his own legend although he never really gave it much thought at that time. He also wanted his parents to know he finally had a friend, his first friend. He carefully laid down some flowers he picked from the park just to the west of Prontera. They weren't anything special but they were beautiful enough to offer his parents.  
  
"Father, mother," Devlin began, "I want you to meet Cleo. She's my friend, my very first friend. I came here to introduce her to you. We'll be traveling for a while so I don't really know when I might be able to return, or if I'll even be able to return. That's why I wanted to talk to you before we left. In case I never get this chance again..." Devlin broke off and fell silent. He whispered to himself, "Mother, I really think the both of you are very similar. I think you would have gotten along if you were still alive. She's really been nice to me. Don't worry; I won't let her die because of my weakness. I'll be strong to protect her. I really hope she's like you..."  
  
Devlin put his hands together in a gesture that meant he was praying. Cleo did the same, she prayed for the souls of his unfortunate parents very sincerely. Although she had not heard most of what Devlin said she felt a closeness to him that she liked. She was no where near the solution to the mystery of his personality, but she felt she understood him more than ever.  
  
"Let's go," Devlin said with a smile on his face. "Let's start you off with some Elder Willows. Then we'll see what happens from there."  
  
They quickly left for the Elder Willow forest to the southwest of Izlude after Devlin paid his respects to his parents. Devlin wanted to see how well she fought, from there he could asses where they needed to go next for her to quickly improve. They would probably have to go to the pyramids, but he needed to make sure Cleo could handle the undead there.  
As they got to the center of the forest Devlin sat down on a tree stump beside a small pond. Cleo was looking at him in a very curious way. She had no idea what was supposed to happen next. "What are you doing?" she asked. "I though you were going to check my proficiency in battle, so why are you sitting there?"  
  
"I'll watch," he answered reassuringly. "I'll be right here to save you when you're in trouble. Don't worry about it."  
  
Devlin didn't look worried, this eased her mind a little, but she was an acolyte. She knew so little about the art of fighting. What was she supposed to do? The monsters here were way beyond her.  
She shrugged, and then finally decided to attack an Elder Willow. She was hardly able to attack it; she was mostly running all over the place trying to avoid its attacks. Every time she was not fast enough to dodge its attack she would fall and fall hard. Healing herself was just a waste of time; the Elder Willow was really quick and strong. Its powerful attacks were starting to wear her down.  
She thought of how much pain she's inflicted on it, but then quickly realized that any injury she might have caused would have not bothered it by now because her attacks weren't consistent. She knew no magic to cause it any damage, and she was quickly losing her strength. As she was about to execute her final attack, one that would do her more pain than the enemy, the Elder Willow was split in half. Devlin has finally intervened.  
  
"For you to last this long was great," Devlin said quite impressed. "You're one tough acolyte! The pyramids would not be a problem, you know enough about close-quarter combat to keep yourself alive that long. Very impressive for an acolyte."  
  
She looked at him and finally realized he was indirectly complementing her uncle for doing a good job in teaching her about self- defense. "I am the niece of the great Stefan. It would have been impossible for me not to learn anything from him throughout the years we've been together." She, too, was proud; she never knew how well she could fight until today.  
  
Devlin had an excellent judge of character. He knew Cleo would not ask for help, and he also knew she was unaware of what she was really capable off. He was proving to be a good mentor. He knew the steps and precautions he had to take before he would even let her fight a monster. Every battle was a subconsciously calculated stepping stone directed at her improvement. Before long, he knew, she would be a very powerful priestess, but until that day comes he has to make sure she returns home a better acolyte every single time.  
  
Devlin decided to remain in the Willow Forest a few days longer; she was greatly improving her technique. But the fact sill remained that she was an acolyte, thereby ill equipping her for vendettas against Elder Willows. He pondered over armor; maybe if he bought her some better equipment she could kill an Elder Willow by herself. He told her he would head back to Izlude very quickly and buy something that might help. Devlin told her to pick red mushrooms by the ponds or join a party while he was away.  
During the last couple of minutes Devlin spent talking to her a wizard and an assassin took notice of her. How could they not notice her? She was beautiful. They waited to see if Devlin had left and finally approached her once they were sure he was out of the way.  
  
"Could you join our party?" asked the wizard in a friendly voice. "We really need a healer..."  
  
"Sure," she answered. Cleo didn't think much about this because it would serve as valuable training for her. After a couple of battles, they were continually getting further and further from the center of the forest. It was less crowded in these parts; plenty of privacy. Once both men were sure no one was close by, they cornered her by a huge tree.  
  
"You know, for an acolyte who supposedly serves God, you really are tempting," the assassin said.  
  
The wizard grunted his agreement and said, "Could you join us tonight in Prontera? I promise you it'll be fun. A few drinks, and maybe we could keep each other company for the night talking about stuff."  
  
Both men were slowly making their advances and Cleo started to feel cornered. Although she was improving her close-quarter combat skills, she could never bring herself to harm another human. That was what Devlin was worried about. During the time they've spent together, it immediately became clear to him she could never bring herself to harm her fellow man. Devlin quickly guessed this was the reason she became an acolyte. It was a terrible combination, beauty and vulnerability.  
  
Cleo was getting worried; no one seemed to be in this part of the forest. She knew what these two wanted, it was so typical. What really annoyed her was the fact that they wanted to do it to her, a servant of God. Not only was this a grave sin, but it also showed how little they feared and respected Him.  
As the wizard grabbed her wrist, she saw a shadowy figure from behind them headed straight for the wizard. The leaves of the nearby tress rustled, but it was the fatal error these two men made. They did not recognize this rustle for what it truly was; the precursor of an attack that was delivered as swiftly as the wind. Devlin slashed through the wizard's flapping cloak and dealt him a mortal wound on his right arm. The assassin was taken by surprise by the ferocity and force of this attack. By reflex, he jumped back as Devlin started to stand up straight.  
He recognized this knight. It was him, the knight that accompanied Cleo just before they decided to lure her into their trap. He looked so much different now, although he had not yet said a word he carried a force that really alarmed him. This knight had the ferocity of an animal, a wild beast out of control. He noticed him looking at the wizard; he took a quick glance, not daring to let his guard down before this wolf.  
The wizard was bleeding profusely. His cloak was quickly soaking up the overflowing blood. He was lucky he didn't lose his arm altogether. Devlin was staring at him, he knew the wound was mortal, but it wouldn't kill him. He did not dare chop a man's arm off in the presence of Cleo. The wizard was wailing out of the pain and clutching his wrist, at the same time tears started to pour from his eyes.  
Devlin struck the wizard out of his fierce protective affection for Cleo. It was the protectiveness an older brother had toward a younger sister. It angered him that these poor excuses for men were trying to taint his "sister." To dishonor her, knowing full well she was a child of God. It was an outrage, yet even after that he was not angry. He did not threaten them or show any signs of anger. His presence merely radiated his feelings, and to stare directly into his eyes was like staring directly at Death with the knowledge He is after you.  
  
When Devlin finally spoke, the assassin truly felt fear; he did not know what would happen to him. Devlin ordered them to leave and never to bother them again. His wishes were quickly followed. The assassin did not think it was worth losing his life for merely a night's pleasure. They left humiliated, and became the subject of more rumors about the Fierce Knight. 


	5. Chapter V: The Gathering

Chapter V: The Gathering  
  
The stage has been set. With the death of the arrogant swordsman who dared to control him and the attack on the wizard and assassin Devlin was the topic of many rumors spreading across Midgard. The streets, taverns, and almost everywhere imaginable were filled with parties and guilds in search for this force of nature. The legend was slowly coming together; it was merely a matter of time before it was fully formed.  
As the people of Midgard searched for this man of incredible force, they were clueless as to where in the world he really was. It seemed that as soon as he did something of significance he was gone in the next instant.  
  
Devlin and Cleo had just entered the desert south of the Willow Forest. They were now making their way to the Pyramids. But first, they must quietly slip into the desert trade post known as Morroc. They had to replenish their supplies and lodge there for a while and wait for the Pyramids and its immediate area to be clear of the numerous parties trying to search for him.  
This was really how Devlin avoided them. Instead of being one step ahead, he preferred to be one step behind. It was really a practical strategy. Since most of the parties followed each other there was only one location they searched at a time. To remain behind them would provide them with enough cover to move freely.  
  
"It's really, really, really hot here!" Cleo complained. "Can't we go a little more to the south where it's cooler? The climate here is terrible. How could the people of Morroc bear the heat?"  
  
"You asked for an adventure, and that's what I'm giving you," Devlin replied. It was pleasant for him to be finally traveling with someone. He used to feel that it took forever for him to get anywhere he was going. Now, however, because he has someone to talk to he never noticed the journey. Although the desert was hot it was necessary for them to head for the pyramids.  
  
As they entered the city, Devlin was cloaked, they went on to find the local inn. The city was bustling with all the people. It was a merchant's haven, shoppers as far as the eyes can see. It was proving difficult to find any inn with a vacancy. Devlin really didn't mind the price because he was carrying a small fortune with him. And if he needed any money he always could go to the local Kafra employees and request to take money from his account. He never really needed one before but because he recently acquired a fortune because of the new Orc Graveyard he had to open up an account while he was in Izlude.  
After nearly three hours of searching, they finally got a room in a very big inn. It was one of the better rooms the inn had to offer, but Devlin didn't mind since they would probably stay there for a couple of days to a week. His only real problem with the room was its bed, not that it wasn't comfortable or anything like that. In fact it was too comfortable, the only problem is it's a king sized single bed. He tried to get a room with twin beds, but since the clerk thought they were a couple, they looked good together, and it was the first room to be available they had to take it.  
Devlin spent a lot of money to find accommodations and yet, for all that money, he had to sleep in the floor. At least Cleo was enjoying herself, it was worth it. She even offered to sleep on the floor knowing how much he spent to get the room. And when Devlin refused, she offered to let him sleep on the bed. Devlin was a quick thinker; he used every plausible excuse to sleep on the floor.  
They spent a pleasant afternoon on the porch overlooking the city. They talked about everything, from their plans to their interests. As the sun slowly set they were treated to a spectacular change of color both in the sky and the city skyline as shop lights flickered on one by one. Darkness soon followed. They were free to roam the streets in search of useful rations that they would need in the pyramids. Under the moonlight, they looked like the perfect couple to most, and few even suspected of their true identities. But of course, not all could be fooled. An assassin quickly recognized him as the man his party has been searching for.  
The assassin's party was composed of three knights, a priestess, and another assassin. They were searching for the great Lord Devlin ever since they've heard of his creation of an Orc Graveyard. They first heard of him through most of Morroc's locals talking about a swordsman who killed one of the members of the notorious swordsmen parties that preyed on Morroc. They later learned of his knighthood and his name. Such was their admiration for him that they were going to pledge their allegiance to him. They were not the only party who was looking for him with the same reason, but it was really fortunate for them to have found him.  
The assassin tailed them until he learned of where they lodged. He quickly assembled his party to tell them of the good news. They reached a decision as to how they were going to approach him. They wanted to meet with him in private, but not in his lodgings, it would be disrespectful, so they decided to send him a letter. They arranged for him to meet with them just outside Morroc.  
  
Devlin had no idea what the letter was about, but decided to go to the designated meeting area to find out what these people wanted. He didn't think of it to be so serious that he didn't mind Cleo coming along. When he arrived he found a small party waiting for him. They started murmuring among themselves when they saw him walking up to them. They gave several approving nods when they saw him, indeed he looked like a man worthy of respect.  
  
"Lord Devlin," the priestess said. "We would like to request that you admit us into your service. We would swear our loyalty only to you. We would carry out any of your wishes and protect you with our very lives. Would you grant us this humble request?"  
  
"Lord Devlin?" Devlin repeated. "I think you are mistaken. I am not a lord, but merely a knight."  
  
"We are not mistaken," answered one of the knights. "You are indeed our Lord Devlin."  
  
"I really don't know to what I owe this honor, but please tell me why you want to serve me?" Devlin asked. "I am curious as to why anyone would want to serve me. I have nothing to offer."  
  
"Merely being at your service is enough reward for us," the priestess answered. "Please accept us as your followers."  
  
Devlin knew they were being sincere about their request. But he was still puzzled as to why anyone would want to serve him when he had not yet made a name for himself as a knight. He could not disrespect them by refusing so he gladly received them. "What are your names?"  
  
The priestess answered for all of them. "I am Catherine, that knight with the spear is Alexander, the one with the Poring is Eidenborough, and the last knight to join us is Maxwell. The assassins are Vincent, the one who found you, and Vladimir."  
  
"It is a pleasure," Devlin answered. "This is my friend, Cleo. We went here to train in the pyramids but there are still a lot of people looking for me in the area. We can't train until they leave."  
  
"Do you want us to accompany you to the pyramids when you train her?" Vladimir asked hopefully. "We could be of great help. I know the layout of the pyramid well and we can protect her if there was anything that went wrong."  
  
Devlin considered having them around while they trained and agreed. It would be better if they had help and someone familiar with the pyramid's interior. They later went back into the city and parted ways. Little did anyone know that the Order of Death was slowly taking form. They would train in the pyramids for a few days with the help of the small party and then move on to the next stop.  
  
The pyramid was a cursed place. Scattered bones came to life through the evil spirits trapped within its walls. There would never be a shortage of enemies throughout their stay. The only real danger was that the evil spirits never stopped possessing skeletons that you could never really be sure of your safety. They would have to leave every night to stay safe while they sleep.  
Cleo wasn't confident if she could take on any of the walking skeletons. Devlin has really done well to teach her how to defend herself, but with a walking skeleton she seemed to loose her confidence. Catherine saw Cleo's dilemma and offered to keep her company while she trained to protect her in the event Cleo was faced with a horde.  
  
Cleo was beginning to relax because of Catherine's help. She grew confident with each spirit they were able to exorcise. It wasn't really that bad; she discovered she could handle it after all. But she occasionally got in over her head and needed Catherine to support her with sanctuary fields set up to protect them. As Cleo focused on healing the skeletons, a skeleton archer from the end of the hallway sent his arrow from his bow with such speed it whistled as it sped through the hallway. The sanctuary field vanished and Cleo turned back to see what happened. Catherine had been hit in the back and now fell over and was resting her weight on Cleo. Cleo was now alone facing a horde of skeletons coming after her.  
At that moment she felt herself drained of all strength, it only lasted a second, and then she felt sick. She immediately understood her situation. Despair had begun to take its grip on her. In that instant she remembered Devlin, where was he, she thought? 


	6. Chapter VI: Encounters

Chapter VI: Encounters  
  
The hallway was dark. It was silent. But Cleo could hear the clicking of bones as the various skeletons made their way for her. She was cornered; she had no way of escape since Catherine was resting her full weight on her. Any second now, she thought, they'll be here to consume me. Then, for just a fleeting moment, she heard them stop; all sounds that reveal movement have escaped her ears. She thought she must have been dead. It was painless; no wait, she could hear foot steps. Was it Devlin, she wondered?  
At the end of the hall a figure slowly approached. As the figure slowly made its way to Cleo the skeletons started falling apart. They both could hear the cracking of bones as the figure stepped on a few on its way to where Cleo stood. Cleo couldn't recognize the shadow approaching her. She was still stunned by the fear of death and feelings of grave despair.  
  
"There you are," said a female voice. "I've been looking for you all over the place. We're really lucky that you are still safe."  
  
"Who are you?" Cleo asked slowly. "Why were you looking for me?"  
  
"I'm Ashley," she answered in a comforting voice. "I just returned from my promotion. You see, I left Catherine and the others to become a priestess. Now I am one. Vladimir told me the both of you were somewhere here so I decided to help."  
  
As Cleo heard this she remembered what happened to Catherine. "We've got to get help! I think Catherine's been hit!" Ashley looked over to Catherine and examined her. She tried to heal her, but it didn't work. She looked at her back and found the Skeleton Archer's poisoned arrow. A look of fear appeared on her face.  
  
"We've got to get her out of here! She'll die if we don't remove the poison from her body right away." Ashley said.  
  
They both carried Catherine's limp body as they rushed to find the exit. This was really difficult for them since some bones tried to form into skeletons as they entered some hallways. This was where Cleo saw Ashley try to heal every single one that tried to stand. She knew healing was difficult. It drained a lot of energy especially if you did it continuously. Cleo really liked Ashley for not complaining; she was doing her best for a friend in need.  
After a while, they finally made it out of the pyramid. They both breathe a sigh of relief, but their troubles weren't over just yet. They had to find Devlin and the others and get help for Catherine. As luck would have it they found Vladimir standing just a little distance from them.  
They waved and screamed frantically to get him to help them. They needed his help; he was an assassin after all. He had the quick reflexes and agility to get Catherine back to town quickly enough for her to be saved, but he did not understand why they were waving and screaming at him. He just thought they were glad to see him since they were inside all day. He merely waved back with a grin on his face thinking of his good looks. It must be a sin to be loved by three women, he thought, women of the Holy Order of all people.  
  
"VLADIMIR!" Ashley screamed when they were finally near him.  
  
"What?" he asked somewhat annoyed. "You don't have to scream. I can hear you just fine."  
  
"We're screaming because you didn't even come down to help!" Ashley replied. "Catherine's been hit by a poisoned arrow! Get her back to the city and find an Alchemist!"  
  
Vladimir took a quick glance at Catherine's face. She was pale and turning a little blue, beads of sweat appearing on her forehead, and she was breathing through short, quick gasps. A funny expression appeared on his face. It was the result of the rush of emotions the flooded his head at that moment. No one saw the look on his face because of his mask, but they knew he was now serious.  
He took Catherine's body into his arms and ran to Morroc. As he ran he kept yelling for an alchemist. Desperately trying to find one that could save his friend. As he was running people started to either get out of his way or think he was crazy. He made it all the way back to Morroc without anyone trying to help, but at least he would surely find one somewhere in Morroc.  
He was running through the streets searching for one until he finally saw one preparing to leave his spot. He yelled for help. The alchemist looked at him and thought of running away, but saw the priestess in his arms.  
  
"Please sir," Vladimir was out of breath, "help her. She was struck by a poisoned arrow. Save her with one of your antidotes. We'll pay anything you ask."  
  
The alchemist saw his eyes. He saw the desperation, the seriousness in them. "Sure, first, let's get her into a room with a bed. I also need to make the antidote."  
  
Vladimir led him to a little shack. He gave Catherine a painkiller and then pulled out the arrow. He saw it was one of the ones the Skeletons used. It would be easy to remedy. He looked at Catherine and knew he had more than enough time to save her.  
  
The door bursts open as Devlin and the others came rushing in. A barrage of questions followed, and Vladimir could only scratch his head. He didn't know who or how to answer first.  
  
"She'll be fine," the alchemist finally answered as he stood up from Catherine's bedside. "I just dressed her wound a little while ago. I've already given her the antidote. She'll be fine when she wakes up tomorrow. She's a tough kid."  
  
"You dressed her wound?" Cleo blushed. "But you're a man!"  
  
"Don't worry," replied the alchemist. "It's better than having him do it. Don't you agree?"  
  
They all agreed and were relieved to know that Catherine was safe. Ashley and Cleo went over to her to care for her. Devlin was puzzled by the priestess who joined them. He went over to Eidenborough who was feeding his Poring and asked who she was.  
Devlin was pleased to know they had another member who could help them in their journey. He signaled the knights and assassins to follow him outside. He could not wait for the numerous parties and guilds to leave Morroc. They would have to leave tomorrow. He told Maxwell to ask the alchemist for whatever Catherine might need through a journey.  
Maxwell faithfully did what was expected of him and asked the alchemist to make some medicines Catherine might need in a journey. He told Maxwell that Catherine would be fine tomorrow and would not need anything else, but Maxwell insisted that he make some incase she might need it.  
Devlin and the others took turns staying by Catherine's bedside that night. They all tried comforting her in the few times she gained consciousness. The alchemist also stayed the night to make sure she would get the proper doses of the antidote. While Cleo and Ashley slept peacefully that night the others were making preparations for a long journey.  
  
The sun had barely begun to rise; several shadows could be seen leaving the gates of Morroc. Devlin and his small group of followers were now starting their journey to the unknown. Devlin decided to leave now, before any of the parties or guilds did.  
Vladimir and Vincent took their last look at the city they grew up in. It would be the last time they would see their home. For now, there was no turning back. Devlin was their master and where he would go they will surely follow, even if that where the deepest pits of hell. 


	7. Chapter VII: The Order of Death

Chapter VII: The Order of Death  
  
The party had traveled out of Morroc headed north. Devlin had to abandon his plans about trailing the numerous parties searching for him. It was out of the question, after he realized the danger of keeping up. Training in a sped up pace would only cause further problems for his new allies. The only place they had to go was his home, Izlude. At least, there, they could rest, think, and most important of all, take their time.  
They were in the desert southwest of Izlude when Eidenborough asked Devlin if he could visit the Land of Porings where he wanted to free his pet. It seemed nothing out of the ordinary so Devlin instructed the rest of the party with the exception of Cleo to head to Izlude and wait for them. He also instructed them to find lodgings that way they had a base, of sorts, where they could carefully plan their next move.  
Eidenborough led them to the Sacred Land of Porings where he intended to release his childhood companion. It needed to be with its kind after spending nearly a lifetime with Eidenborough. He wanted his friend to live out the rest of its life in peace. He then saw Cleo looking at all the Porings clearly enjoying herself. He also saw Devlin looking the sparkling stream that went through the area.  
  
"It's beautiful here, isn't it?" Eidenborough asked.  
  
"It is." Devlin said. "It's peaceful. A tranquility the world has forgotten..."  
  
"Have you heard of the legends about this place?" Eidenborough quietly asked. "It's quite something to hear. A lot of people go here in search of the Angeling, the guardian to all the Porings and its kind. People of all walks of life have gone here to gain the blessing it's supposed to give. No one has ever seen it. And the legend goes that those who are able to slay it are those who have been smiled upon by fate. A great fortune will come to you, but no one knows what that fortune it."  
  
"I see." Devlin said mesmerized at what he was looking. "That is an odd Poring." He pointed to a Poring that was passing by that had wings. "I haven't seen that kind before." Eidenborough took a quick look and saw it. He saw the Angeling of legend. He quickly looked back at the Knight he chose to serve and was awe–struck. He has heard the rumors surrounding this knight, but he never imagined that someone like Devlin could be so tempting even to fate.  
He didn't notice Devlin stand up and head for it. He was going to attack this beautiful creature, so rare, that only two pairs of eyes have seen it. Devlin was readying his strike, but as he came closer the force of his strike was repelled. A wall of white translucent light had appeared to receive his blow. The Angeling quickly turned to face Devlin.  
Balls of white light were headed in his direction. He was still disoriented from the shock his body received. Suddenly, Eidenborough had jumped into its way. His armor had disappeared in the light, as if it were melted away. It torched his skin and he yelled from the pain. This got Cleo's attention as she quickly headed for the direction of the noises.  
What greeted her eyes was a painful sight. She could see Eidenborough trying to stand with difficulty. He was struggling to keep his legs steady as he tried to defend his master yet again from the coming attack.  
  
"Move out of the way!" Cleo screamed. "You'll die if you get hit again!"  
  
"There is no greater honor than to die trying to protect your master!" he answered with grave resolve. "Help him. He must not die here!"  
  
Cleo immediately went to where Devlin was leaning on a tree. He was trying to get up but his body was overrun with spasms which gave him no control over his own body. Cleo tried to heal and cure him so he could try to save Eidenborough from the Angeling's next attack.  
Devlin quickly gained control over his body once again, and he got up running to where the Angeling was hovering in front of Eidenborough ready to attack. He grabbed Eidenborough's scythe and planted the end with the blade on the ground to thrust his body over the barrier. As he landed, with the coordination and precision of a seasoned warrior, he twisted himself to grab the scythe for a slash that would decide the battle.  
Eidenborough was surprised by the maneuver, but he saw the adaptive nature Devlin naturally possessed. It was a nature vital for any warrior. He was yet again blown away by his master's skill. The sheer difference in their level of expertise alone proved that he still had a lot to learn, but he was the follower of who he believed the greatest knight he has ever known. He would improve one day, he knew he would. Eidenborough then fell on the ground exhausted but with a calm mind knowing his master was alive.  
Cleo went over to him to heal his wounds and at least try to lessen the pain. Eidenborough was the proof of the kind of loyalty Devlin inspired in people. She was happy. She yet again witnesses a legend being born, but she had not seen all of it, not yet. As she helped Eidenborough up, she saw Devlin looking at the remains of the Angeling.  
  
"What is this?" Devlin asked as he looked into the shining stone in his hands.  
  
Cleo was staring in absolute disbelief. She could not believe what he held in his hands. The Holy Stone that was bestowed upon those who were truly worthy. Throughout history, a very limited number of people ever possessed it. These people were great, heroes of the ancients, but they never received the stone so early in life. It was, it was the—  
  
"Emperium!" Eidenborough said in shock. He knew the stone's history, but couldn't believe his eyes. The gods have bestowed upon this young knight a gift that would rattle the world. "But how? Only the Holy Order bestows the Emperium on very select individuals. Even then, they only give out small chunks of it."  
  
Devlin handed it to both Cleo and Eidenborough. They both very carefully examined it. It is true. The rarest rock, the most Holy rock, the Emperium had been given to Devlin through the Angeling. Eidenborough was slowly taking in the strange events one by one. And as moments passed and he slowly realized this was real, he found a new admiration for Devlin. Strange things were indeed happening, but it was all for the better, in Devlin's opinion.  
As they examined the Emperium, a shadowy figure was carefully watching them. The figure was staring in disbelief as well as in shock. If everyone found out Devlin had an Emperium, and at that size, there would be chaos. He quickly left and left no trace of his presence.  
  
"Lord Devlin, do you realize what this means?" asked Eidenborough enthusiastically. "People all over Midgard would know you and recognize your presence. Lord Devlin, this is exactly what we need for the others like us to recognize you. They will come to your service as we have!"  
  
"Then we shall now be known as the Order of Death." Devlin answered quietly. Now, Cleo had witnessed all there was to this legend. 


End file.
